


Invisible

by Cyanide_Caution



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bennoda is mentioned but not in this fic, Dry Humping, Flashbacks, Hair-pulling, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 17:17:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12775722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyanide_Caution/pseuds/Cyanide_Caution
Summary: Maybe in an alternate timeline he was Rob’s and Rob was his, but he would never know now.Burying the hatchet is easier when you don't talk about it for years. Sometimes people come along and dig it up, making you look at the mess you've made.





	Invisible

**Author's Note:**

> This is that Bourdelson fic I promised 87 years ago. 
> 
>  
> 
> I love you all, enjoy!

A heavy downpour of rain was predicted in the forecast that night, heavy clouds bringing fat drops of rain in its wake. Smacking the panelling of the roof with intent to make it cry. Amongst the blackened clouds laid a white moon, barely visible yet its presence known. The few knocks was enough to stir Brad from his sleep, he wasn’t startled figuring he knew who it was, looking over; his beautiful wife still in her own slumber, blonde hair spread over her pillow. His beloved Elisa. Kissing her sleeping cheek, the thin man slid out of bed, grabbing a shirt before descending the stairs. When Brad Delson opened his front door at 2:47am, tired yet ready for whatever may come, he was expecting Mike, the man was taking midnight walks and sometimes Brad would tag along for company, they both knew why, they both never dared to mention it. Rain or shine. He always had a far away look in his eyes, his black hair slightly unkempt, lips curved into a bashful smile as he would always apologize for not making his presence known prior with a text and Brad would always wave him off with his own tired grin, giving a sincere ‘it’s okay.’ Inviting him into the warm abode, Brad would let Mike seek warmth in his living room while he changed and they would set off into the chilly autumn night. Sometimes but more times than not they wouldn’t talk, more specifically they didn't talk about Chester, Brad was sure Mike was going through enough. The night would consist of silent walks in the empty, pretty streets, occasional jokes and asking on personal affairs. Blinking his tired, brown eyes to adjust to the moonlight, he wasn’t expecting Rob Bourdon at his door. Thick, brown hair plastered to his face from the rain shower he must have walked in, phone tucked into his black jacket’s front pocket, beard kissed with water and eyes as soft and strong as ever. Before Brad could make an amused comment Rob spoke up, his voice as soft as his eyes. “Can I come in?” It was slow. Almost if every word was carefully picked beforehand. He must have been outside longer than Rob would have liked to admit. Before Brad knew it he was moving aside, letting the taller man in. Rob gave a grateful and tired smile. 

The heated house went to work in warming the drummer, he was happy to escape the downpour. As Rob began to take off his shoes as Brad went to go fetch a few towels for his friend. He knew showing up at Brad’s doorstep this late was a dumb idea, maybe if Brad took long enough he could make an escape. He took off his boots and jacket slowly, beginning to except it was too late to leave because of the approaching steps. The feeling of regret and worry planting itself on his conscious as butterflies swarming his stomach, torn away from his thoughts by Brad clearing his throat in an attempt to defuse Rob from his own self. A small kitchen ceiling light the only source of brightness as the living room was flooded in near darkness, giving it a dull, white glow in the room. The curly haired man smiled broadly, his eyes crinkling ever slightly with a gentle laugh accompanying it. “You look like a wet dog Robbie.” Brad stretches his arm out with a towel in hand, Rob took it with a small nod, going to work on taking care of drying his hair as he followed Brad to the massive kitchen, recently cleaned, the smell of lemon in the air. Brad was still curious on why Rob was here, he understood Mike’s reason but for the drummer this was new. Watching the taller man take a seat at one of the kitchen bar stools. Putting the other towels nearby he went to coffee maker, preparing it without saying a word. As the machine hummed to life, Brad turned, hands braced against the counter and left leg crossed over his right. Chocolate, brown eyes expressive, checking Rob over before asking, “Is there a reason you’re at my house at nearly three in the morning? Not that I mind but there’s a time and place.” It was suppose to be a joke. Rob placed the towel around his neck, face mostly dry other than the few droplets that clung to the edges of his locks. He shifted on the stool, dark chocolate eyes trained on the pattern on Brad’s pajama pants. Brad knew Rob would talk, he was always more patient with him, like Mike was with Chester. The air was heavy with silence only to be interrupted with the sound of coffee being ready, as Brad turned to fix them their cups how they always drank them Rob finally spoke up, finding his voice. “Do you remember how our Hybrid Theory tour was?” His only response was Brad looking over his shoulder at him, raising a brow, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah,” He began as his attention turned back to the bright red coffee mug, adding a spoonful of sugar before setting the container and utensil aside.

Brad remembered those years very clearly, some of the best in his opinion. New kids in the industry, who didn’t understand how to run a tour bus correctly, didn’t understand how big they would actually make it. Brad was also aware that was the time Rob and him decided to start dating. It was on a mild evening after their performance on Top of The Pops, the band feeling electric as they headed back to their dressing room. Joe and Chester instantly into sliding into chatting about alive the crowd was. Mike and Phoenix collapsing into the worn leather sofa, talking quietly to one another. Brad and Rob were slowly making their way down the hallway, silent enjoying their company before the guitarist spoke up, reaching out to slid a hand gently around Rob’s wrist. The drummer nearly felt his heart stop in the process. “Can I speak to you real quick?” Brad was nervous, he was sure his hands were sweaty and his cheeks and neck were flushing a pretty shade of red that reminded Rob of strawberries. “Is something wrong?” The drummer uttered in a worried tone, brows coming together in concern for his band mate. Brad gently tugged the taller boy away from the opening where the rest of the band was present. When he deemed them well out of earshot, he turned to Rob, whose face was colored in dark pink and it reminded the curly haired man of rose petals. “Uh,” Brad was trying to find his words, having a crush on your friend was hard enough but not knowing if they were into you or not was much harder to swallow. “I dragged you out here because I needed to tell you something. L-Listen, I’m not good at this and honestly I’m nervous.” Rob watched Brad chew on his lip trying to find words his words as his brows focused in worried tension, his hand still clasped around his wrist as he hoped he was asking what Rob could only dream about. “I-I wanted to say that I’ve liked you for such a long time Robbie,” Brad didn’t dare look up at the set of eyes trained on him. “Would you...uh like to ya know…” Brad breathed out slowly, wondering why it was so hot, suddenly more shy. Rob was stunned, mouth agape as he stared at the guitarist, who was focused on the dingy, grey tile. He swallowed hard, his free hand reaching to take Brad’s idle one. “I like you too!” Maybe it was too fast and eager but the look on Brad’s face was worth it. The sweet transition from worry and fear to disbelief and happiness. “So you’ll be my boyfriend?” Rob questioned quietly as Brad seemed to gain some of his own composure back, dazzling smile on his lips. “I thought that was my line.” He chuckled weakly and beamed. Rob smiled before holding his hand tight, leaning in to catch a peck from his new boyfriend’s eager, soft lips. 

 

Brad placed a white mug in front of Rob watching him lift to sip, taking a seat across from him, holding his own red mug. “I know you didn’t walk to my house at 3am in the rain to relive the glory days, right?” He took a sip, raising a brow as his eyes carefully studying the long haired man. Rob knew the gaze Brad was giving him, it’s the ‘Cut The Shit’ look. The drummer sighed and placed down the steamy cup on the counter, coffee as sweet as he always drank it, on the occasion he did partake. “The reason I came over was to discuss well...us.” Rob held up a hand, stopping Brad instantly before continuing. “Listen, I know this is the last thing that you’d wanna talk about but with,” He hesitates, Brad’s brows furrow in out of irritation but he waits for Rob to finish, “... With Chester’s death and how it’s affecting Mike, we both know they were together.” He carefully searches his friend’s face, only to be met with frustration with silence. “It made me think about us and how good those times were.” Rob admitted in a whisper, treading into dangerous waters bringing the subject up. “You can say all you want that us breaking up was mutual but you know damn well it wasn’t! I just wanna know do you regret it?! Do you think of us, like I do?” Rob hissed, eyes determined to a point he didn’t even remember, searching his former lover’s face. Brad snapped, setting down his mug a little harder than he should’ve, the light brown steaming liquid sloshing in the cup. “It was and you fucking know it!” He returned in his own hiss. That made Rob purse his lips, eyes narrowing in a glare. “Really? I remember it a hell of a lot differently then whatever you dreamed up.” Brad’s eyes widen, brows shooting up and his mouth in a tight line, his face flushing in heated red, speechless and angry. The tension in the room had took itself a seat, watching the two men give one other angered glares. Brad was really regretting allowing Rob into his home, he could be taking a walk with Mike or sleep in his goddamn bed with his wife, not having to relive something so painful that took so long to put away.

The drummer wasn’t wrong, in a sense the guitarist knew it. It was nearly a year into their relationship and things were as good as they could’ve imagined it. The band accepted and supported them, especially the secret couple Chester and Mike, it made the couple feel secure and comfortable. Gingerly placed kisses on lips, wandering hands in the back of the bus, heated make outs before and after shows in the darkest of corners and breathless love making when they shared a hotel room. The media was a natural fear to the couple, if people found out they were together it could hurt everyone in the band. In the growing tension of anyone outside their circle finding out they began to fade apart, like petals off of a dying rose. A love once thriving now dying and no matter how much Rob held and attempted to comfort Brad, it wasn’t enough to subside his boyfriend’s discomfort, nor was it enough to sate his own fears. Touches became less frequent, waking up to worry instead of kisses, it was a miserable milestone they never wanted to cross. 

The pot boiling over as their last night of sharing a hotel room, where Brad told him he couldn’t do it anymore, he was fed up and sick of whatever was going on between. He felt like he was drowning and Rob felt like he already hit the bottom, currents carrying them into stress and strain until the pressure was too great to bear. “... I think this is for the best Bourdie.” His lover’s tone was somber and gentle. Brad’s hand rested on his knee rubbing circles into the material of his sweatpants, he was growing out his hair, the ends curling a wet from his shower, oranges invading his senses. The taller man found the cheap material of the cream bed sheets to be more interesting than the hurt crawling into his heart at that moment, the skinnier man trying to catch his attention in bittersweet gestures. “Rob please?” Brad begged in a whisper, nearly enough for the younger man to look up, cup his face like he always would and kiss those soft lips. “If you think this is best.” He spoke after what seemed like a deafening silence, voice feeble and biting back more than just tears. Anger, he wanted to yell at Brad, he wanted to yell at himself on how stupid he was in the first place. Feeling the thinner man’s hand move away from his knee, he didn’t dare look up at those eyes. Coffee colored and expressive, probably filled with hurt that Rob wanted to comfort. “I do.” He heard the wavering tone in his now ex-boyfriend’s voice. It was the deep feeling of melancholy that sank into their bones. Somewhere, in the mix of it all Brad had left their shared room, not before giving Rob’s scalp a kiss and a lingering hand on his shoulder, saying something along the lines of he would be back. Rob only remembers falling asleep and never wanting to wake up. 

After that it was tense, they never tried to talk about the issue, letting it swallow them whole. Rob played the drums with a little more force and was more shut off and Brad rarely looked up from composed pieces, keeping his head down to avoid those gorgeous eyes he fell for years ago. Neither man could stay in a room with one other longer than a few minutes at a time. Rob, never feeling quite healed from the damage, considering the curly haired guitarist his first love. Maybe he was a hopeless romantic, not as bold as Chester but more quiet with his passion for others. Brad felt like an ass for months, maybe he shouldn’t have broken things off and maybe it could’ve turned into something. Now, it was just snow caught in heated hands, dissipating before it could be seen into something soft and beautiful. Too late now he supposed. 

Brad’s gaze now returned to his lukewarm coffee, not daring to look up at the equally frustrated look of his former lover. The light brown liquid sloshing with each nudge his fingers gave to the cooling cup, it looked so calm compared to the tension he was faced to address now. He let out a tired sigh, “You’re not the only person who was hurt,” He looked to Rob, who’s face was hidden behind his hair. Brad wanted to brush his fingers through it, comb it aside for the drummer to have nowhere to hide from him and the mess they made. “.. I never wanted to hurt you, I was young and I was so scared of someone finding out and if the m-” The curly haired man was cut off by the younger man who lifted a finger. Rob looked at him with a soft, yet somber, cup forgotten now. “You shouldn’t have said yes.” His voice lacked strength, barely above a whisper. The only response he received was another drawn sigh. Before Rob could speak again a pale hand slid across the island, thin pale fingers resting over his knuckles. God he wanted to jerk his hand away, to tell Brad to stop playing with his heart but the game was becoming too mixed on who was really playing who. Instead, the taller man let out a breath he never realized he was holding, mocha eyes instantly shooting upwards to meet coffee colored ones. Brad didn’t speak, he simply nodded for Rob to continue with what he wanted to say, a reassuring squeezing making the taller man’s face flush that same shade so many moons ago. “So you have thought of us?” The curly haired guitarist shrugged but simply nodded, collecting his words carefully before laying them out. “I did, every minute we spent together. You made my heart feel amazing Bourdie. It killed me to end it how I did, I wish I could’ve punched younger me to go back and take care of you how you were meant to be taken care of. Not to go outside and cry and attempt to smoke half a pack.” He ended bitterly with a tight smile, remembering how much every cigarette hurt, not stopping until he couldn’t keep up with his thoughts selfish demands. Throwing the carton of cancer away shortly after felt like relief. “I still sometimes do but it’s so painful I bury it.” He admitted, thumb rubbing across Rob’s knuckles tenderly, feeling some weight lift off his shoulders. They both knew they couldn’t reverse the clock and be their younger selves again, giving up their families for one another wasn’t a choice. They both loved Elisa and Vanessa and their children so much, it was complicated between them now. Brad would watch Rob knock out an excellent drum solo, his skin slick and arms toned and fall all over again. Rob, watching Brad knock out solos, speak Spanish or laugh at someone's joke with his face full of joy, it reminded him of the childlike nature that made him fall so hard in the past. 

“I use to not think of us as much but since…” He took a breath, absently bringing Brad’s hand closer to hold properly. “...since Chester, and watching how Mike is handling it. Do you think it’s eating him? Ya know, the future they couldn’t have either.” Brad pursed his lips at the question, ignoring the familiar heat in his own cheeks at Rob simply holding his hand. Collecting the inner school girl inside of him. Nodding slowly, he wouldn’t be surprised if the emcee spent endless hours locked away in his studio during the day while Anna kept Talinda together. Mike mentioned they would sit in Anna’s office and chat, his wife stating that it was to keep Talinda’s mind focused as she put on a brave face for the countless hundreds of fans coming forward for and to her. “I think so. It’ll haunt him. Does the idea of us haunt you?” Their eyes meet and there’s nothing but silence for a moment, a pregnant pause as they searched each other’s face. Rob chuckled, uncomfortable on how this was leading but too comfortable to flee. “Uhm...a lot more as of late.” He rubbed the back of his neck before speaking once more, the feeling of selfishness sitting in the pit of his stomach. Now or never. “I miss you and I know that’s awful to say but in that hotel room, I-I never got that last kiss or I never got to hug you how we use to.” Taking a breath he now looked up from their joined hands to meet a cherry blushing Brad Delson. He looked lovely in Rob’s opinion, age treating him and every shadow from the barely lit room resting at angles on his pretty face. His hair soft looking, sleep making it more curled and messy. Lips looking soft and just so kissable, eyes wide and trying to conjure responses for Rob’s confession. Brad’s arms were home for Rob, even when they were no longer together he cherished every hug when they were on stage. They were comfort, comfort in its most humble form. 

Brad for once this evening was speechless, he mentally weighed the options and what each would bring but he would be lying if he didn’t wanna taste the younger man’s lips against his own and maybe tangle his fingers in that thick mane and yank the man closer to him, hearing the groans spill from his lover’s mouth. The room felt hotter, he gently moved his now forgotten mug aside. Brad’s pajama pants felt a little tighter and his free hand gripped the stool under him with force to stay steady. He shifted in his seat as Rob’s desperately wanting eyes trained on his every move like an ever watchful dog, curious of his master. Was it wrong? Yes, both would secretly be indulging into desires that were never meant to be. He knew that if he allowed this to happen he would forever yearn for those hands on his hips again, except he wasn’t stupid nor a child. 

“We can fix that Rob, we can have that last moment back and make it better.” Rob heard the curly haired man’s uplifting and gentle tone, tightening his grip on the others hand he let him continue, his heart was going a thousand miles per hour and was actually floored the guitarist was considering the decision with little resistance. “Brad y-” A slim finger raising to silence him, the drummer narrowing his eyes with a raise of his brow. “If…” Brad interjected quickly before the younger man was allowed to rejoice once more in the mess they made. He peered down at the tiles of his kitchen floor, shining and white from the recent cleaning they received. Breaking himself from Rob’s intense gaze to regain his thoughts, the skinny man carried on. “If we do that here tonight, in my house I-I don’t know if I could stop you from doing anything else.” It earned him a chuckle, a worn out but delighted one. “I’m a big boy now Delson. I can stop myself.” Brad turned his head slightly, listening to the silence that followed from within his house, children and wife still sleeping and clueless to the men’s conversation. He turned himself on the stool to the handsome man in front of him. He never understood why fans never paid more attention to Rob; passionate, yet controlled. Arms toned and firm from years of drumming. His hair longer and beard gracing him nicely, giving him a rugged appeal that only few could appreciate and eyes as deep and full of warmth like a cup of hot chocolate. “Okay.” Brad spoke rather breathless, nervously scooting himself away from the island to let his green clad socked feet touch the cold tiles. The drummer observed him, every detail and moment screaming that his friend was on edge. Brad quietly passed Rob, his alluring gaze giving that familiar twinkle in them as he made his way into the dark living room. The thinner man didn’t have to look back to know the taller one was following him. 

The room was engulfed in near darkness, Brad’s hand reaching back to blindly take Rob’s wrist to guide silently to the couch. They both sat down, nothing but their quiet breaths filled the room. Brad felt a dark blush kissing his cheeks as he stared at the other man, who looked equally excited and just as terrified. Rob slid his hand across the black leather sectional, to trail lightly along Brad’s pattern covered knee, finger leaving imaginary patterns as he steady crept higher until they slid to his hip. The guitarist breath caught in his throat as those fingers tightened slightly, mentally scolding himself for his body reacting like an eager teenager. “Bourdie.” He gasps as the weight of the cushion he sat on shifted with added weight, a pair of damp lips brushing his jaw tenderly. Rob kept his eyes closed, relishing in the memories which flooded him. He moved cautiously between the slimmer man’s legs, feeling them part for him to come closer, drawing him with the enticing breaths Delson let out against his ear. His warm brown eyes began to adjust to the dark, Rob brought his free hand up to gently turn Brad’s head to him. One last sign before they tore down the walls together. “Am I forcing you into this?” He whispered against that smooth expansion of neck, leaning back to catch those lidded eyes staring at him. Brad shook his head, bringing his legs to tighten around Rob’s waist. “Never.” Their lips met, the younger man tilting his head to move in closer, feeling lithe fingers drag into his long hair, pulling drawing him in tighter. It started small, testing the water, just lips. Now, Brad’s silky pink tongue was drawing across Rob’s delicate bottom lip which he was instantly granted. Tongues dancing and exploring, sliding along each other to fight for dominance. Rob tightened his grip on Brad’s hip, pushing the material upwards slight and drawing circles, making the older man yield with a groan. Brad was drowning in the smell of Rob, it was so alluring and strong. The mix of expensive cologne and something that was simply his Bourdie, hearing the other man get worked up simply because of the guitarist made him feel prideful. 

Skillfully dragging his free hand down Rob’s chest, feeling the skin expand and deflate with each breath under his grey shirt. Fingers brushing the other’s left nipple in its descent, earning an unsteady buck in the other man’s hips. He reached down to cup the slowly forming erection pressing against Rob’s dark denim pants. “Brad.” Rob groaned softly as he pulled away, hand grazing through Brad short brown curls. He panted as his eyes searched the slender face before him. Eyes in narrow slits and lips slightly puffy from being nipped and sucked on, God he was so beautiful. Rob brought Brad’s hand up and held it rather gingerly in his own, kissing the man’s knuckles. Releasing him only to bring their hips together, fabrics flush against each other and painful erections bumping. Brad his legs at an angle to accommodate the now searing pleasure that his friend was providing. The curly haired man simply moaned breathlessly, head resting against the couch arm as Rob used some of his strength to re-position them so the other’s legs could wrap around him fully. “My strong drummer boy.” The elder praised as his neck was attacked with open mouth kisses. Rob huffed at the praise, smiling and eating it up as he left wet kisses and dragged his tongue across every place he left untouched. His large hands skating down the other’s side, instantly finding their way under the old graphic t-shirt. Feeling Brad’s slightly protruding ribs under his fingers, rubbing circles into the skin. Brad tugged Rob up by the hair, earning a moan from the younger male, loving how his eyes rolled back with the force. Brad knew the taller man adored the tingles of pain. “F-fuck.” The younger one breathed out, making his friend grin, arousal plain as day in his shining eyes.

Bringing their lips back to meet in a heated kiss, the guitarist’s arms now laced around the other’s back and he began to grind his hips up against Rob’s. The younger man pulled away and panted, an arm reaching over Brad’s head to grip the armrest of the couch to steady himself. Quickly working his own hips in rhythm with Delson’s, Rob felt on cloud nine, he was desperately craving more of Brad; wanting to fuck him, feel his engorged cock suffocated by that tight heat and eat every praise that past the older man’s lips that were only meant for him. This would do for now though, he closed his eyes and let out a quiet, heated moan against that delicious neck. The older man huffed, attempting to work himself the best he could but Rob’s jeans were too thick to make proper contact. “Sit up Bourdie, I gotta move.” Meeting the drummer’s slightly disappointed eyes, the weight was slowly removed from the thinner man as he sat up. Letting out a chuckle at the other man’s dismay, Brad went into soothing him. “We aren’t stopping, I just have to make it feel better that’s all.” With that he situated himself into undoing the leather belt of the younger man, let his arms rest along the back of the couch. Watching the older man unfasten the button of his denim jeans with haste, feeling himself grow harder as Brad tugs his jeans until they sit around mid thigh. “What are y-” Brad pulled Rob in for a kiss as he sat on the drummer’s lap, the soft fabric of the younger man’s briefs against his silky pajama pants was like heaven. He felt the heated cock beneath him and shuddered as the memories of past love making flashed before his eyes. Rob groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as his hands instantly went to holding those slim hips. 

Now their rhythm was matched, Brad gripping the thick brown hair of his drummer boy, drawing a moan of his name from the other’s lips. “Got a hair pulling kink Bourdie? Does Vanessa ever make it burn like I do?” He taunts, hot breath fanning against Rob’s neck. The younger man feels the familiar build in his lower body, simple dry humping already about to make him lose himself. “N-no, just you. Only you.” His blush was definitely visible now, he grunts as Rob ground his clothed erection upwards hard enough that Brad nearly topples over in the process. Payback for his little comment. The taller man takes the moment to look up at his former beloved, Brad’s head is thrown back, lips dark as his cheeks, a bead sweat rolling down his neck as he worked his body furiously to chase his probably nearing orgasm. Sweet gasps escaping his lips with every intake of air, Rob hears his name being whispered in sacred chants. “You're gonna make me come Delson, God you’re so good for me.” Rob purred, hands moving downward to cup the other man’s ass, fingers teasing and brushing where his hole was. Brad whined, biting his lip, his eyes shooting open as the hands massaging his cheeks through his clothes are enough to make him come undone, hips stuttering messily he moaned out. “Oh shit! I-I’m coming! Come with me!” Rob quickly clamped a hand over Brad’s mouth, letting him moan into the warm flesh of his palm as he found himself in the same predicament. “O-oh God!” He hissed through clenched teeth, biting some black, worn fabric of Brad’s shirt into his mouth, eyes rolling back as he held the still coming guitarist like their lives depended on it. 

In that moment they were both silent apart from their attempts to catch their breaths. Brad slid his way off of Rob’s lap, feeling the now sticky substance in his pajama pants. He looked as if he just rolled out of bed, his long haired companion on the other hand looked completely fucked in the most beautiful way. His hair was what Brad could only say was after a concert, sweat slicked and messy, strains sticking to his gorgeous face, his pants still sitting around his upper thighs, damp spot rather noticeable and his hands relaxed as he steadied himself. “Better than you remember?” The older man interrupted the younger from his thoughts as he stood, probably going to retrieve the towel Rob used to dry off with from the kitchen. “Much.” Was his only reply, his little fantasy now checked off his list. Accepting the towel with a single nod, he watched the curly haired man sit back down gingerly, pursing his lips as if he was deciding on to say what was on his mind. “Go ahead.” Rob encouraged, dabbing his neck free of sweat. Brad took a breath before letting the words flow from him. “We...we just did that Robert and I-” Rob frowned, feeling his heart leap he interjected. “Do you regret it?” His voice was laced with worry, if Brad regretted it would change what they worked so hard to improve on the first time around. “No.” It was horribly quiet. “That’s what I’m worried about. I’m not sure if this could happen again,” He quickly held his hands out in surrender before adding on. “I wouldn’t stop you don’t get me wrong. I just feel like I don’t know, what if it ends up like last time?” He finally looked up to the caring eyes, always watching him with the intent to protect and help. Rob took a breath, “We aren’t kids anymore Bradford, it won't.” Brad snorted at the use of his full name, rolling his eyes. “How do you know? We could end up like..like them.” No one had to say names for them to know. Rob rubbed a hand over his face, giving an exasperated look, the adrenaline was wearing off. “I don’t but if you keep worrying it’ll end just as bad as the last time.” He moved closer to the worrying curly haired man, taking the man’s hands in his own. “You trust me right? One hundred percent?” Brad nodded, a small smile gracing his features. “Our secret then, our little taboo that only we know what happened here tonight.” Brad considered the soft, pleading eyes staring at him. A simple nod was enough to make Rob grin happily. 

Rob slipped on his shoes tiredly, making sure he had everything in his jacket pockets before turning to look at Brad, who was leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other. The time showed 4:09am on his wristwatch, thankful it was no longer raining outside, instead the birds were beginning to start their wakeful calls in the distance. “You know,” The drummer mused with a chuckle, “At the rate Mike has everyone up we’ll all be night owls.” That made Brad laugh lightly, the towel in his pale hands, dampened still. He nodded in agreement, scratching his bearded cheek in thought. “I don’t even mind, the dark is where it’s best. Now you be careful okay? Could’ve driven over here Bourdie.” The older man chided with a shake of his head. “I like the walk and besides Vanessa would’ve heard.” He defended as he unlocked the door, standing in the doorway he looked back at the man he once called his. “Good morning Brad.” He gave him a half wave before exiting the house, the golden sun not even peaking the now misty, gray sky and yet the world around him started rising as he was ready to go home and sleep. Brad walked over to the door, watching the man leave his gated property, maybe they had a future in an alternate timeline, maybe they were married and happy but for now he would never know. “Bye.” It was nothing but a whisper for only him to hear. The musician closed the front door, locking it and letting out a breath of exhaustion. Tossing the used towel in the laundry hamper he silently climbed the stairs, ready for bed. Maybe in an alternate timeline he was Rob’s and Rob was his, but he would never know now.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't be afraid to drop in on my tumblr listed below! I do request fics and i love everyone!
> 
> https://bennoda-n-cheese.tumblr.com/


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